When Doors Aren't Soundproof
by Pierides
Summary: Jonathan had learned in his few years as director that some of the doors had cracks that if you listened by you could hear everything that was being said in the room. And that was fact he found by accident; one he did not like to retell.


_(A/N): This was a way to wind down after studying. I decided to answer a question posed to me in one of my fanfictions. This can stand alone, but is related to my Jonathan Crane story "Triptych". mushi6618 wanted to know how Jonathan discovered that the soundproof doors weren't soundproof. I needed something to make me laugh. So here you go, mushi!_

_If anyone of you reading has read Triptych and would like further written on any event there, please do review, private message me, etc. I'll be happy to answer your curiosity with a drabble. This little diddy was helped along by "Saliva", the 46__th__ prompt from livejournal's 50scenes community._

_Disclaimer__: Don't we all wish we owned it, but we don't. DC, WB, and Chris Nolan and various other retain all rights.

* * *

_

_**So, Boss-man, how's it feel to be Director of your very own Insane Asylum?**_

Jonathan thumbed through a file he was carrying to his next session on the upper floor. 'You've been asking me that periodically for a month now. How come I'm starting to feel it has less to do with actual congratulations than something to amuse yourself?'

Scarecrow feigned hurt within him, _**You think I'd fall low enough to simply irritate you with the same question? I'm not five, Jon.**_

'Yes, that's for certain. You remind me more a perverted uncle or a grandfather perhaps.'

_**You take that back! I am not OLD! If I am then so are you!**_

Jonathan snickered lowly, 'I don't know how one would classify the age of an alternate personality. To be honest, when I think about it, you **do** act like what one would expect from a teenager.'

Scarecrow mock scowled, _**Don't you back talk me, boy! Don't make me get the switch!**_

Jon laughed quietly so his shoulders quaked. 'Really, though,' he adjusted the file in his arms, 'what do you want?'

_**Honestly, Jon, I'm still in awe that we're the Director of Arkham Asylum…I wonder how long it'll take for pretty little interns to notice us…or that cute little nurse on the 2**__**nd**__** floor…**_

Jonathan sighed; he figured it had something to do with women. 'Do you ever think about anything other than sex?'

Scarecrow snorted, _**Well, one of us has to do it since the other is apparently a little saint. What are you asexual? Are you gay? It's alright if you are, I'm very accepting. If you're not interested in women, though, please tell me so I can go put myself out of my misery as soon as possible.**_

Jonathan frowned; of course he was interested in women! But as he once again shifted his arms to get a more comfortable grip on the folder, a piece of paper fell loose and fluttered to the floor. He bent down to retrieve it, but just as his fingers touched the wispy object a sound floated to his ears.

It was a moan, but it wasn't just a normal, everyday painful moan. It wasn't the kind of moan one let out after popping sore joints either. It was a **moan—**a feminine, encouraging, breathy moan. Jonathan swallowed thickly, suddenly very uncomfortable.

_**What is that?**_

'I don't want to know.' There was a gruff grunt.

_**Yes, you do. You're the director and if those are the noises I think they are, someone's being very bad in your upstanding establishment.**_

'You just want to see. I don't.'

_**Even if you don't want to look for the reasons I do, you're still curious. What if it's a patient and a doctor? That is just ethically wrong. You have to lay down the law, Dr. Crane! Raise some hell! Be a man!**_

'Now you care about ethics?'

_**If it gets you to look.**_

Jonathan glared at the floor, of course. He'd spoken too quickly. But a more pressing question was where that sound was coming from. A whining, gasp and an order of "Faster" came to his ears. He tilted his head and stared at the door at his side. Weren't they supposed to be soundproof?

'_**Supposed to be' would the key phrase here. Looks like we've found the crime scene, what's next, Holmes?**_

'Do I really have to open it?' He asked, softly.

There was a snort and then he was replaced with Scarecrow. The man stood up, replacing the aforementioned lost page, and turned to the door. He grabbed the handle, swung it open, and then Jonathan was back in his own conscious.

Damn it! Of course his alter would leave him to deal with the messiest part because he knew he didn't want to.

He gaped at the scene and two sets of equally mortified eyes met his as the lovers separated from a rather passionate kiss. He then clenched his jaw and fixed the man and woman who'd chosen one of the session tables for their love nest with a cold glare.

"Dr. Strange! Dr. Leland! Can you please explain to me what you think you're doing? This is a hospital not a motel. If you'd like to further your relationship please do it on your own time and not the time that I am paying you to administer medical treatment to patients." He shut the door and swiftly walked down the hall, confident that the moment had been shattered, however the image was still burned into his mind.

_**Wishing you could've joined in the fun?**_

"Shut the hell up!"

He was already sick enough, he hadn't needed that. He felt his mouth pucker. He was going to have to have that room disinfected. He shuddered.


End file.
